


No Use Going Back To Yesterday, Because I Was A Different Person Then

by Vamillepudding



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, M/M, Minor Queenie Goldstein/Jacob Kowalski, Protective Jacob Kowalski, Protective Theseus Scamander, past bullying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-03
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-10-27 18:13:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10814166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vamillepudding/pseuds/Vamillepudding
Summary: "Taking the job, Newt told his brother eventually, had never been much of a hard decision at all."Six months have passed since Newt first left New York when the magizoologist gets the offer to work for MACUSA. The job itself wouldn't be hard, if it weren't for one Percival Graves being most determined to give Newt a hard time for some reason unknown, and Newt has endured enough of that kind of treatment in his life, thank you very much.Throw in some protective friends, a protective brother, and Newt's insecurities, and the chaos is complete.





	No Use Going Back To Yesterday, Because I Was A Different Person Then

**Author's Note:**

> Before you go on to read this, just some quick things to get out of the way:   
> First, the title is a slightly altered quote from Alice in Wonderland.   
> Second, this was originally a prompt-fill for the kinkmeme, but since I've only filled the prompt on the very last page, I'm not sure anymore that this was what had been originally intended. Anyway, this is the prompt: http://fantasticbeasts-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/1184.html?thread=2267552#cmt2267552  
> Third, enjoy!

**I. Newt**

 

Newt Scamander was on his way to Australia when he got the owl. The other passengers on the boat by now were used to the strange birds occasionally delivering strange letters to the strange man, so no one so much as batted an eyelid at the sight of their fellow traveller carefully freeing the owl from the envelope.

Newt himself, however, felt a twinge of alarm as he recognised the logo of MACUSA. Six months had passed since his visit to the United States, and his American brothers and sisters contacting him now could only mean trouble. 

“Excuse me” he muttered in the general direction of the other travellers on the boat’s upper deck, and hastily made his way to his room for some privacy, the brown owl resting on his shoulder whilst occasionally nipping his ear. The British wizard petted her once, twice, three times before convincing himself to break the seal. 

“Dear Mr. Scamander...your stay last December...Mr. Theseus Scamander’s letters...extraordinary work for the wizarding world...recognition...magizoology... not too much trouble...offer you a job-“ Newt broke off. Reread the line. Reread the beginning of the letter. Reread the line again. Shook his head. Finished the letter. Let out a surprised laugh. 

“That’s certainly never happened to me before” he said aloud, still smiling. The owl nipped his ear again.

 

**II. Tina**

 

It was simply unfair, Tina reckoned, that Mr. Graves should be determined to punish the Aurors of his department for not noticing Grindelwald in disguise by making them deal with more cases and more paperwork than ever.

Graves had always been an insufferable boss, but being held captive for almost a year had, if nothing else, certainly hardened the man further. On his first day back on the job, after a sick-leave of two weeks enforced by the president Herself, Graves made it a point to have a personal chat with every single one of his subordinates, effectively putting the fear of God into them. The essence of his order was this: ‘Work hard. No, harder than that. Your best isn’t good enough.’

And Tina understood, in a way. Probably. Maybe. Sort of. But, even though she didn’t really, she still cared for her job as much as ever, and when she single-handedly solved the first case assigned to her by the newly-returned Graves, she had to actively stop herself from skipping as she was rewarded by a small smile from her boss. 

That first smile was what gave her the confidence to knock on the door to Graves’ office, a few months and several cases later. The gruff “Come in” only made her falter a little, and soon she was seated opposite her boss. 

“Mr. Graves”, she began, and immediately stopped, unsure of how to continue. Graves slowly raised an eyebrow. Tina swallowed and started over. “Mr. Graves, surely you remember Mr. Newt Scamander?” 

“Miss Goldstein”, Graves said in mock-imitation, “surely you remember that it was not, in fact, me who met Mr. Scamander last winter? Surely you remember the period of time in which I was replaced by the darkest wizard of modern time and no one in MACUSA, yourself included, noticed?” She winced. This wasn’t going well. Then again, she had already given him the first punch, so she might as well dig her hole deeper. 

“I apologise, Sir, but that is not what I meant. Mr. Scamander’s brother, Theseus Scamander, seems to have been informed about last year’s events. Or rather, he seems to have decided to finally act on it.” The name ‘Theseus Scamander’ caused Graves to sit up straighter, which Tina hadn’t known was even possible for the man’s already stiff posture. She handed him The Letter. “This arrived earlier today. It was addressed to MACUSA’s auror department as a whole, so we didn’t inform you immediately.” Of course, upon reading it, the aurors had not hesitated a second to draw straws in order to decide the unlucky man or woman who would have the obligation to go tell the boss. 

Now, Graves scanned the first page of many more still to come. His frown deepened. 

“To the Auror headquarters...on behalf of Mr. Newt Scamander...Mr. Newt Scamander’s stay last December...extraordinary work for the wizarding world...deserves recognition...legal action to be taken... – Goldstein. I’m a busy man. Does the rest of the letter differ much from what Mr. Scamander has already made clear within the first few sentences?” 

“And what would that be?” Tina asked carefully. Graves looked even more grim than usual. 

“A threat that the British Ministry is going to declare the death sentence inflicted on Newt Scamander during his stay in America last year an act of war against Great Britain – if, and I’m quoting this, if Newt Scamander does not get officially rewarded for his exemplary achievements for the greater good of MACUSA and the whole wizarding world.”

“Well – yes. That’s pretty much it. There is a brief section on the fifth page that gets a bit more personal, but I think you’re mostly grasped the core meaning. Sir.” The director of the Auror headquarters massaged his temples for a few seconds, eyes closed. Then he visibly composed himself. 

“What would you advise MACUSA to do?”

“ _Me_?” Tina couldn’t help the surprise showing in her tone. 

“You’re the one who arrested him in the first place, you’re the one who gave him food and shelter, and you’re the one who still writes letters to him occasionally. So I ask again. What would you advice MACUSA to do?” Put like that, it almost sounded like an accusation, and knowing Graves, it could very well be. But either way, she had been asked a question that might seriously influence foreign politics. So Tina gave it some thought. 

“I’d offer him a job”, she said finally, and the bold statement was almost worth the look on Graves’ face. 

“You’d _what_?”

“Offer him a job. We can’t go ‘round handing out medals to men who have committed several acts of crime in several countries, so that is out of the question.”

“So you suggest MACUSA going around offering them jobs instead?” Graves asked incredulously. It was perhaps the most obvious display of emotions she had ever seen him show on his face.   
Just like the man opposite her earlier, Tina straightened up. 

“Yes. He doesn’t have to take it. But it will get Theseus Scamander off our backs.” 

“And if he does?” She allowed herself a grin. 

“Then MACUSA will be the first government of the wizarding world to open a department for magizoology.” 

All in all, she thought as she excited the office, this could have gone worse.

 

**III. Newt**

 

In the end, Newt decided to continue his journey as planned. Australia would be the last stop before he returned back to England. It would be then, as was Newt’s general idea, that he would make the final decision of whether to take the job offer. Still, as he spent his weeks meeting and cataloguing new beasts, and meeting and rescuing mistreated ones, and meeting and upsetting the humans on the way of meeting said creatures, he was never able to quite ban all thoughts about the offer from his mind.

Taking the job would mean less autonomy, he thought when he treated the wound of a Chimaera. 

Taking the job would mean more pay, he contemplated as he fed a Griffin named Theseus, the newest addition to his case and a creature that reminded him strongly of his brother. 

Taking the job would mean spending an infinite amount of time in the United States, the country of bad tea and death penalties, Newt remembered during a duel with an Australian witch who had used a Golden Snidget as a replacement for the Golden Snitch normally used in Quidditch Games. 

Taking the job would mean seeing Jacob and the Goldstein-sisters again, Newt considered when a new letter from Tina arrived. 

Taking the job would mean trying and most likely failing not to annoy the only friends he had made in a while, Newt furthermore considered after having finished reading Tina’s letter. 

Taking the job would mean being able to help more creatures, Newt thought over and over again whilst he fed and nurtured his beasts, whilst he got back on the boat to England, and whilst he embraced Theseus for  the first time in two years. 

Taking the job, Newt told his brother eventually, had never been much of a hard decision at all.

 

**IV. Pervical**

 

In spite of popular belief, Percival Graves had met neither Theseus nor Newt Scamander. It was true that he had fought in the war at the same time as the older Scamander, but they had been in different divisions. As for the younger one, Percival had never even known of his existence until he was rescued after the most unpleasant year of his life. Afterwards, however, Percival felt like he was not able to hold a single conversation without hearing Newt Scamander mentioned at least once.

His aurors were impressed by him, Porpentina and Queenie Goldstein were charmed by him, Seraphina Picquery was annoyed by him. Percival, without ever meeting Scamander in person, quickly felt as though he had known him for a long time. That’s why, when the man actually did come to work for MACUSA nearly nine months after the job offer had been made, Percival was surprised by how much the descriptions had failed to accurately portray the individual known as Newt Scamander. 

Newt Scamander had defeated Grindelwald without even using his wand, people generally agreed. Percival now found out that the reason for that was most likely in Scamander not being very skilled at using a wand in the first place. 

Newt Scamander was a greatly charming young man, the Goldstein-sisters had once said. The attributes Percival would’ve assigned to the British wizard would be more along the lines of “painfully polite”, “embarrassingly incompetent”, and “pathetically shy”. 

Newt Scamander was a criminal who had saved New York more or less by coincidence rather than by his own skill or brain, Picquery had told Percival in private before Scamander’s arrival, and this was the only assessment of the man’s personality that Percival felt inclined to agree on. 

It was just a shame that his head and his groin did not necessarily went hand in hand by means of functioning – because, and this was another thing nobody had mentioned about Scamander: The man was beautiful in a way usually reserved for the fairer sex. And that, the way Percival’s body tended to react to Scamander’s presence even when his rational side never ceased to list off all of the magizoologist’s faults, was simply inacceptable, so Percival did his best to lock all such foolish notions away and put a stop to something that had not yet begun.

 

**V. Newt**

 

“Is –“ Newt started to say one afternoon during lunch with the Goldstein-sisters at MACUSA’s cantine, before shaking his head slightly. “Never mind.” 

“You got something to say, honey?” Queenie smiled at him. Three weeks had gone by since he’d returned to New York, and Newt still had no idea whether the younger Goldstein was telling the truth about not being able to read his mind. He didn’t like the idea that she might, didn’t like the idea of anyone listening to his thoughts at all, usually harmless and superficial they may be. He had always suspected Legilimens to not being quite truthful about their abilities, and Queenie Goldstein was no exception. Until he was certain she would not rummage through his thoughts and turn any ugliness that she might find there against him, he would not let his guard down in her presence. 

“It’s just, I was wondering whether Mr. Graves was always this – moody.” Rude was another word for it, but Newt was not about to voice that out loud.   
Queenie and Tina exchanged looks. It was Tina who replied, after checking that the man in question was nowhere near in sight.  

“Mr. Graves has been known for years for the high expectations he has for all of his co-workers” she said diplomatically. 

“And the displeasure he expresses when somebody doesn’t meet those” Queenie added. Displeasure – an understatement. Just this day, Newt had successfully stopped an Auror from pointlessly killing a beast, and had been lectured for it by Graves, who, in between glares and threats, had also muttered something about how offering Newt the position had been a mistake and a dark day for MACUSA indeed.

At the time Newt hadn’t been able to reply to that since the reproaches had continued, but upon remembering the incident now, he felt a mixture of hurt and anger swelling newly inside him. He stood up abruptly. 

“If you’ll excuse me, I do believe Mr. Graves and I have something to discuss.” Since he was already on his way out of the room, his back turned to the two sisters, he did not catch their facial expressions – and perhaps for the best, as his sudden determination might have faltered then.

 

**VI. Percival**

 

His mood could not have been fouler when Newt Scamander entered his office, for the second time this day. Instantly, Percival was alarmed. Scamander’s presence here could only mean that the Brit had failed to fulfil his job once more.  

“I was hoping at least 24 hours could pass before I’d have to see you in here again.” By the time he had finished speaking, Scamander had already taken place on the seat opposite him without so much as waiting for a nod of permission. Percival raised an eyebrow, which should have been an indicator for the other man to apologise. 

Scamander did not, in fact, do so. Instead, he took a deep breath before saying: 

“Mr. Graves, I think we might have started our working relationship off on the wrong foot.” 

“Is that so?” Usually, his sarcastic tone of voice was enough to intimidate his fellow wizards.   
Scamander did not, in fact, look intimidated. Instead, he looked mildly pissed off. 

“I understand that you do not like me, believe me, I do. But you offered me this job, and to be frank with you, I’ve been doing it quite well so far. Just because you – you feel upset over my being here, does not give you the right to, to bully me.” 

“Now, wait a m-“ 

“I’m quite used to having my methods or my cause questioned. And I’m quite used to being put down by others for various reasons, as well. Now, I can behave like a professional in spite of that. The question, Mr. Graves, is: Can you?”

At this, Scamander left without another word, leaving Percival – to use an expression he had overheard the magizoologist say the other day- positively gobsmacked.

 

**VII. Queenie**

 

As a Legilimens, Queenie generally knew what was going on in the minds of her fellow wizards. But it was more her common sense than her special skill that had her expecting Mr. Graves to approach her before the day was over. Newt’s hasty departure at lunch had made sure of that. 

“You know Scamander well.” It wasn’t a question, so Queenie didn’t answer. A quick probe told her that as always, Graves had his mind well-guarded. “If I ask you a question, will you keep silent about it to others?” Common sense and Legilimency or not, this did surprise her. But since it was her boss asking, Queenie nodded. 

“Yessir.” 

“Do you think I’m _bullying_ him?” Graves sounded so upset over this that she couldn’t help feel sympathetic for him. He probably didn’t _mean_ to be intimidating – not always, anyway. 

“You’re certainly not very nice to him, sir.” 

“Not very nice” he repeated, and then he added, more to himself: “If the man can’t handle a bit of criticism, maybe we should think his career at MACUSA over.” 

“With all due respect, Sir, Newt’s only been doing his job. And while it’s not really my place to say about the bullying thing, you might want to ask him why he was so quick to leave his own ministry.” Silently counting her heartbeats, Queenie left at the third count. Let Mr. Graves figure it out on his own.

 

**VIII. Theseus**

 

It was coincidence more than anything else that caused Theseus Scamander to take a portkey to the United States eight weeks after he had watched his little brother get on a ship headed to that very country, and roughly four weeks after Newt had sent him an owl and informed him of his safe arrival.

During Newt’s several voyages over the past years, and the war before that, it had not always been easy for the brothers to keep in touch. Among the various creatures in Theseus’ brother’s suitcase was not a single owl to be found, and even when Newt happened to find one willing to deliver a letter, that did not always ensure that the bird would reach its destination.

Theseus himself made a point of writing to Newt every other week, seeing it as his duty as an older brother, yet more often than not forgot to actually send the letter. This was why the Scamander-brothers oftentimes went months and months without hearing directly from each other, the lack of news only interrupted when Theseus’ name popped up in a newspaper Newt coincidentally read - or when Newt’s name popped up in a discussion in the wizarding ministry, usually accompanied with sighs and words like “dangerous” or “criminal”. 

And that was exactly what had happened after Newt had left New York, all those months ago. Grindelwald’s capture had overruled every bit of news these days, and all Aurors had been called in for an emergency meeting. Then, and only then, had Theseus been informed of what his younger brother had been up to – and, frankly, he had not been amused. 

So he had pulled some strings, called in some favours, made some promises and some deals, and by the end of it all, he had had the British Ministry of Magic ready to start a war against MACUSA on Newt’s behalf. 

MACUSA had reacted by asking Newt to work for them, and to Theseus’ surprise, Newt had accepted. Theseus had been less surprised because of Newt willingly going back to work for a government that had tried to kill him, and more so because Newt absolutely hated his job at his own ministry. It seemed odd that he would be so ready to jump on the chance of working for another. 

But, as their mother had reasonably argued at the time, Newt was a grown man and thus capable of making his own decisions. Apart from that, Theseus knew his brother to be more than able to take care of himself. 

That naturally did not mean that Theseus did not revel in the opportunity to check up on Newt during this short trip for the Ministry.

 

**IX. Newt**

 

Newt was busy sitting in his office while composing a letter to his parents during what would have been his lunch hour when somebody knocked three times in quick succession before letting themselves in. 

“Just a second, please.” 

“Don’t tell me you don’t even have time to greet your elder anymore” said an amused voice just as Newt put away the quill, the familiarity of it causing Newt to look up at once. 

“I’ll have you know that I’m still not calling you that.” The brothers embraced each other. 

“That’s quite a fancy office you got there” Theseus commented after letting go of Newt. “You know, I think it’s almost as big as my closet.” 

“This is quite the fancy coat you’re wearing. I think grandmother used to have the same one” Newt retorted in remembrance of Beryl Scamander, who had made frills the main feature of all her clothes. 

Theseus reached out to cuff Newt’s head. Newt ducked and elbowed Theseus in the ribs instead. Both brothers smiled. 

“Well, aren’t you going to take me out to lunch?” the older man, tall and ginger, demanded. The younger man, not quite as tall but just as ginger, was already halfway through putting on his own coat. 

“If you promise not to embarrass me, I suppose we can go to the canteen.” 

“ _Me_? Embarrass _you_? Don’t tell me the new position has gone to your head, little brother” Theseus said, leaving the room behind Newt. On their way to the cafeteria, continuing their bickering, neither man noticed Percival Graves approaching and then abruptly backtracking.

 

**X. Jacob**

 

Sworn to secrecy over and over again by his friends, Jacob always double-checked to see if no one suspicious was watching before he let one of his staff take over the shop for a bit and talked to his wizarding friends who had entered his shop. Today, Newt came in with a strange man, the two of them engaged in vivid conversation. Newt caught Jacob’s eye and immediately pulled his companion towards the baker. 

“Theseus, this is my _friend_ Jacob Kowalski. Jacob, this is Theseus, my brother.” Was it mere imagination or had Newt put slight emphasis on the word ‘friend’? 

Jacob gave this Theseus a jovial smile. 

“Good to meet ya, pal. I’d shake your hand but I’m afraid I’d only dirty yours.” He held up his flour-smeared hands as an example. Newt’s brother grabbed one anyway. 

“Nonsense. It’s good to meet you, too, Jacob, can I call you Jacob? I must say, this is a bakery of the most extraordinary kind. Surely your sweets would be popular among Britain’s wizarding community, as well. If you ever think about expanding, just send me an owl. I have friends in high places, surely something can be arranged.” 

“Uh, thanks.” 

“Any friend of Newt’s is my friend” Theseus said with a smile. Next to him, Newt was turning red, and he muttered something that sounded like 

“I _told_ you not to embarrass me”. 

“Nonsense” Theseus repeated. 

The more Jacob looked at the brothers, the more similarities in their appearances he discovered – and the more differences in their behaviour. Weirdly enough, he had never thought too much about Newt’s quirks until he had now met somebody who had been born to and raised by the same people as Newt.

An only child himself, Jacob found siblings fascinating. Whenever Newt mentioned his brother, Jacob had always imagined a man with the same awkward smile, the same constant stream of apologies, the same fondness of animals, and perhaps the same kindness to living beings in general.

The man in front of him was not smiling awkwardly so much as calculating – calculating, probably, whether Jacob would be a danger in any way to Newt -, looked like people only tended to apologise _to him_ , and while Jacob was in no position to guess on his attitude towards animals, he felt sure that Theseus Scamander extended kindness to very few people only.

And, finally, while both men technically stood next to each other, Theseus had made sure to, casually, position himself ever so slightly in front of his brother, a protective gesture. 

Jacob could not blame him. He, too, wanted to ensure Newt’s safety. Also, and this was what made him appreciate Theseus’ presence: This was the least tense he had ever seen his friend. Jacob smiled again. 

“Now then, fellas, what can I get for you today?”

 

**XI. Percival**

 

Theseus Scamander visiting the United States was not something Percival had expected, but then again, his job ensured that he was flexible about unforeseen circumstances. Normally he wouldn’t even have minded; after all, it was none of his business what kind of visitors his employees got, as long as it wasn’t distracting them from work.

But the older Scamander coming to New York now, under the very flimsy pretence of being under order of his ministry, seemed like a barely concealed threat. Oh, Percival did not doubt that the British magical ministry had actually sent Theseus Scamander here for work, but only a fool would have believed that this was the whole story. 

So far he had not gotten a chance to speak with the man, let alone his younger brother. Ever since Theseus’ arrival yesterday, the brothers had been constantly together, which also meant that Percival had not been able to follow up on Queenie Goldstein’s mysterious advice. 

Today, Percival was taking an early lunch hoping to avoid an overly crowded canteen, and found that Newt and Theseus Scamander had had the same thought. Food tray in his hands, he would have only given the brothers a brief nod of acknowledgement, had it not been for Theseus raising an eyebrow and asking his sibling: 

“Why, Newt, aren’t you going to introduce us?” The addressed man hesitated only a heartbeat. 

“Mr. Graves, meet my brother, Theseus. Theseus, this is my boss, Percival Graves.” The two men shook hands. Pervical had the feeling that not only did he remember Theseus’ letter, but also did Theseus remember his letter, and probably knew that Percival remembered as well. At least this was the only reason he could come up with for the queer look in the Brit’s eyes that Percival matched with a hard stare of his own. 

Newt – it had become much harder to refer to him by last name since there were two Scamanders roaming the building now – appeared to notice the tension that Percival could not quite explain himself, and cleared his throat. 

“Would you like to sit with us, Mr. Graves? I was just telling my brother about how _welcoming_ MACUSA has been to me.” Was this Newt’s idea of a joke, after their rather harsh confrontation two days ago? Or was he baiting Percival, goading him to straight-out lie to Theseus? Either way, Theseus now gave Percival a smile that looked genuine. 

“He was indeed. I do hope Newt has not been too much of a _bother_ to you, Mr. Graves. Back in our own Ministry, we used to call it a good day when my brother only had started a national conflict once.” The fond look Theseus directed at Newt took the edge off the words, yet Percival was surprised when Newt responded in the same teasing tone. 

“Back in our own Ministry, we also used to call it a good day when _my_ brother only turned said national conflict into a diplomatic crisis once.” Percival’s lips quirked. _The man is a criminal_ , he reminded himself instantly. _He is a criminal, and the only reason why this joke was funny in the first place is because it’s based on that fact._

But, damn it. Right now, Percival could very well see the man the Goldsteins had described as charming. And two days ago, he had also been able to catch a glimpse at the man who had captured Grindelwald single-handedly. It was becoming increasingly harder to keep up his dislike for Newt Scamander, and Percival felt like bashing his head against a wall for it. He must put a stop to this right now. 

“If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen, I’m afraid I have work to catch up on. I’ll leave you to your meal in private. Mr. Scam- Newt, can I talk to you in my office this afternoon?” Not waiting for a reply, he left. Behind him, there was not as much as a second of silence before the playful banter picked up again.

 

**XII. Newt**

 

His sudden surge of courage from two days ago had long since disappeared, and all that was left now was a cold, unsettling feeling that made his hands shake ever so slightly. Mr. Graves was about to fire him, he was sure of it. He would say something along the lines of “tried it out, but obviously did not work” or “experiment gone wrong” or, if he was feeling polite, “your own Ministry will be glad to have you back”, followed by “this is for the best”.

Not even Theseus could threaten MACUSA into keeping Newt after that, and Newt wouldn’t want him to, anyway. 

It was really for the best, he tried to reason as he walked down the halls to Mr. Graves’ office. He could take up travelling again. Publish the second edition of his book that he had been asked about. He could -   
\-   
\- was that the sound of an alarm shrilling through the building? Before Newt had figured out what to do, Graves appeared by his side, grabbing his arm and apparating with him to what Newt recognised as Central Park. 

“Manticore” Graves snapped as an explanation. “You wrote in your book-“

“You read my book?” 

“-that it’s immune to magic. You call yourself a magizoologist, so _do something about it_.”

Already Newt was looking around, frantically searching for the beast. He had only encountered this species once before, and even then had not been able to save it from dying before his very eyes from fatal injuries. All he knew about manticores was that they looked like a mixture of a lion and a scorpion with a human’s head, that their skin was not affected by spells, and that they were sentient to a certain extent. 

“Do you know where it came from?” 

“It’s my job to find out. Does it matter?” 

“I suppose not.” So far, nothing. Newt had not even bothered to get his wand out, knowing it would not do much good anyway. Perhaps in these bushes over there? No, nothing. But he thought he had seen something move behind these trees...

“Scamander” Graves called behind him. Newt didn’t react, his eyes still trained on the huge logs that could easily hide animals that were not too big. “Newt! I’m going to be gone a minute, call for back-up.” 

“Uh-huh.” Just a little bit closer. Now, if he just stayed calm...

“Don’t get killed” Graves told him, and disappeared, just as Newt had reached the first log. Something akin to a growl came from behind it. 

_Sentient. Remember that they’re sentient._

“Hello” Newt tried. “Don’t be afraid. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” He had made this promise more times than he could count, and had only had to break it a handful of times. Each of those had broken his heart, though.

“Can you understand what I’m saying?” The growl stopped and was replaced by a voice that could only barely pass as human. 

“I understand.” 

“Good, that’s very good. My name is Newt Scamander, and I’m here to help.”

Silence. Newt decided to try again. 

“Your kind is native to Greece, is it not? Surely you, you would like to go back there. I can help you with that.” Silence again. Then: 

“How?” It was not much, but it was certainly progress. 

“This is what I do. I’m a magizoologist, you see. I study magical creatures, and if I find one that is, is lost or far away from home for whatever reason, I do my best to return it to its native area.” 

“How?” Sentient, for sure. But to what level? How much did the beast actually grasp what Newt was telling it? No way of knowing. He had to work with what he got. 

“I travel a lot, and I bring the creatures that want to go home with me in a, uh, container of sorts, where they have everything they need. And eventually, I see them off, unless they’d rather stay, of course.” 

“A cage.” 

“Not a cage” Newt insisted. “A sanctuary. I care for all its inhabitants as best I can.” 

“A golden cage, then.” 

At loss for words, the magizoologist hesitated. He disagreed, and just because one being thought of his suitcase as a prison, with Newt as its warden perhaps, that did not lessen the value it held for all the other beings Newt had helped. But he could also not force the manticore to go with him. That would go against everything he stood for. 

And yet - 

And yet, the other option was waiting for Graves and the others, and letting them deal with the beast by doing what the wizarding world oftentimes did best: Kill an innocent creature. 

Letting that happen, too, would go against everything Newt stood for. 

One last attempt. 

“Please. I can get my case and be back in less than thirty seconds. Please come with me. If you don’t, you’ll be killed.” The desperation he felt was visible in his voice, as well. 

“Magic can’t hurt me.” 

“They’ll find a way. If you don’t want to die for no good reason other than my fellow wizards taking the easy way out, _please_ come with me.” There was a rustling noise, and then the manticore stepped out from behind the tree. It truly was a magnificent beast, the human-like head held up high and proud, the scorpion tail swinging dangerously. 

“Tell me why.” It was an odd but fascinating sensation, watching the creature speak in a voice that was not quite human, yet was as capable of complex though as most of mankind. Very few magical creatures Newt had encountered so far had been able to speak the human tongue, and this was something new altogether, something new and exciting. 

“Why what?” So close. He was so close to reaching his goal. 

“Why is my fate so important to a wizard? Don’t lie. I’ll be able to tell.”

“I – Well, obviously I can’t just stand by and watch you die.” Not enough time. If Graves came back now, it would be over. “I took this job, you see, to make sure that something like this would never happen again. And even though I’m on the brink of being fired from it, I’m not going to let someone innocent be punished for my failure. Now may I please get my suitcase and get you into safety?” He felt like his heart had never been beating so frantically. 

The one-worded response was a sweet relief from an unbearable wait. 

“Yes.” 

That was when the first spell surged through the air. 

Newt reacted on instinct. He threw himself in front of the animal, taking the full impact of it. Everything went black.

 

**XIII. Theseus**

 

“Absolutely not.” 

“Mr. Scamander-“ 

“I don’t _care_. I need to take the portkey back to London in thirty minutes, and _my brother is coming with me._ ” Theseus got up from his chair and started pacing the waiting room in the hospital. The other man in the room with him stayed seated. 

“Your brother is in no condition to be moved” Graves reasonably argued. On some deeper level, Theseus knew the director for magical security was making a fair point. But. 

But he really did have to leave New York, and under no circumstances would he leave Newt behind when his brother was still injured. 

“I’ll take him to St. Mungo’s. It’s the most advanced magical hospital in the world, as I’m sure you know. He can get treated there.”

“What about his suitcase? I believe it can’t be Apparated or taken with by portkey. Surely your brother would not appreciate leaving New York without it.” Graves had him, and he knew it. There was nothing Theseus could argue against that that wouldn’t be a straight-out lie. 

“Fine” he snapped. “If you care so bloody much, you better make sure he recovers entirely, because if he doesn’t, I just know that the Minister- who is a _very_ good friend of mine I may add – would love to hear about how MACUSA treated one of Britain’s most well-known wizards.” It hadn’t taken much to make the British Ministry for Magic ready to go to war for Newt once. It wouldn’t take much for that to happen a second time. 

With that knowledge safely stored away in his mind, Theseus gave Graves one last, hard stare, informed the other man coldly that he’d send Newt an owl, and apparated back to MACUSA to catch the portkey to take him back to his home town. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Newt to take care of himself, he thought to himself as he placed one hand on the rusty horseshoe, or that Newt hadn’t been injured before. No, the reason for his anger was that while he did trust his brother, he did not trust his brother’s boss with his brother’s health in the slightest.

 

**XIV. Percival**

 

Percival knew Theseus Scamander’s opinion of him, and was determined to prove it wrong. He, too, had fought in the war, and he, too, was very good at his job and respected for it. Just because Theseus Scamander thought otherwise, that did not mean he would have let the younger Scamander stay alone in the hospital, even without the older Scamander ordering him to stay by Newt’s bedside. 

Ever since Theseus had angrily stormed off a few hours ago, Percival had waited for Newt to wake up. Seconds had turned into minutes had turned into hours, and he had made his way through every crossword puzzle the hospital magazines had to offer when Newt stirred on the bed. 

“What-“ 

“You got hit by a curse aimed at the manticore” Percival explained. Should he call for the nurse? No, not yet. Newt didn’t seem to be in too much pain, and before Percival called a third party into the room, he would have a long-overdue conversation with the Brit. 

“Manticores aren’t affected by curses” Newt said with a frown. A second later, his facial expression visibly changed from vaguely confused and very tired to very worried and vaguely awake. “The manticore. Did you kill it?” 

“It’s in your suitcase. Auror Goldstein took care of it.” Now they were getting to the core of the problem. “I wouldn’t have killed it, even if you hadn’t thrown yourself in the way to protect it. Do you realise that?” 

“You did try to curse it, so no, I don’t realise that, Mr. Graves. But it’s quite alright, really. We can both stop pretending. If you’ll just fire me and be done with it, I can be on a ship to Greece tomorrow morning.”

He should have told Newt that the curse had come from an Auror who had been disciplined afterwards, should have told Newt that he had never had any intention of cursing the manticore, should have told Newt that straight after the magizoologist had fallen unconscious, Percival had seen to the manticore being transferred to the suitcase immediately. He should have told Newt that he had no intention of firing him.

Should have. 

Instead, he only asked: 

“Why Greece?” Newt, probably taking notice of the missing “should have”’s and taking them as proof of what he had just accused Percival of, looked pointedly at his freckled hands when he replied: 

“I do have a Manticore to return home now, don’t I?”

Right then. Time, after all, for the “should have”’s. 

“I’ll give you a three-week holiday. After that, I expect you back at work, with or without Manticore. Actually, make that without. It was enough of a pain to deal with it once when I tried to convince it to get in your case without your help, so I don’t look forward to doing it a second time.” He waited patiently as Newt took this new information in. 

“But, aren’t you going to dismiss me?” 

“Why would I? You’ve just proven your value this afternoon.” 

“I landed myself in the hospital. I don’t see much value in that, Mr. Graves. I don’t see why you would, either.” 

“I’m not going to argue with you about whether or not I think you’re able to do your job. But you should know that I consider all of my  employees of value to MACUSA...even the ones who believe me to be a bully.” It was out. The thing that had been bugging Percival for quite a while now had finally been addressed, and now he could only wait for Newt to react. 

The man in question suddenly appeared to find the floor very interesting. 

“I- I apologise for what I said to you the other day. I was out of line.

It’s just that, well, I am very aware of the fact that you only hired me to get Theseus to back off. MACUSA has never felt to be needing a magizoologist, especially not one who was responsible for destroying half the city last year. I knew that when I took the job. I also knew that if I didn’t take it, lots of innocent creatures would be at risk.

And I couldn’t have kept travelling forever as an alternative. I would’ve had to return to my own ministry eventually. So I, I went to New York instead, and it was just, you made it so very obvious that it had not been your choice to hire me. People back at home have made...similar remarks in the past.

In the end of the day, Mr. Graves, it’s a known fact that while the British ministry may be willing to start a diplomatic conflict for me when Theseus demands it, it would never have done even so much as publically acknowledge me if it weren’t for my brother.

So your attitude...it just brought back some memories, is all. If you really don’t want me to resign, I won’t.” 

This must’ve been the most Newt had ever spoken in Percival’s presence, and it was certainly the most painful, as well. Painful, but not that surprising, not after Queenie Goldstein’s offhand comment. There was nothing to be done about past emotional wounds, Percival decided. All that he could do now was to make sure not to create any new ones. 

“Newt. Look at me.” Newt did. “I really don’t want you to resign.” 

At this, the magizoologist smiled. 

“Then I won’t.” These were the three nicest words Percival had heard in a while. 

 

**XV. Queenie**

 

Everyone seemed happier, lately. Newt was less anxious and less tense, which meant that Tina was, too, and Jacob was happy that Newt and Tina were happy. And then there was Mr. Graves, who had been spending an awful lot of time around Newt lately. Even someone with his mind as well guarded as the director for magical security could not stop the happiness radiating off him in waves entirely. 

“Do you think Newt and Mr. Graves would like to do the wedding in England or America?” she asked her sister one night. Tina promptly choked on her cocoa. 

“ _I think_ that Newt and Mr. Graves have not even started dating yet, Queenie.” 

“Well, yeah, but it’s only a matter of time. I’m just wondering ‘cause I’ve never been to England before.  Jacob would love to see it, too.” 

“If you approach this subject with Mr. Graves _or_ Newt, I’ll never lend you my blue pumps again.” Queenie laughed. It would be alright, she knew it would be. Newt and Mr. Graves would make a fabulous couple.

 

**XVI. Jacob**

 

It took Jacob five months, two weeks and one day since Newt’s first day of his second visit to the United States – although perhaps it couldn’t be called a visit anymore when the person in question had no intention of leaving anytime soon – to realise what Queenie had foreseen about four months ago.

The guy whom Newt had brought to Jacob’s bakery a few times – Mr. “call me Percival” Graves, who obviously didn’t understand that he was not a person one called by the first name, not even when asked to – wanted to...to do things with Newt. Things like Jacob himself had been doing with Queenie for awhile now. 

His epiphany moment came after he returned to the bakery after taking a lunch break, having left the shop under the care of one of his staff, and spotted Mr. Graves and Newt outside of the bakehouse, with the older wizard reaching out to softly caress Newt’s cheek.

Jacob stood on the pavement, frozen solid. Newt hadn’t done anything to stop the other man yet, but then, Jacob had heard all about how powerful Mr. Graves was, both by Queenie and by Newt. Newt must see giving in and taking it as a better option than fruitlessly trying to get away. Jacob knew the pattern, had seen it often enough during the war, when women had been sparse and young, feminine men had been...there instead. 

It had seldom ended well for those men. 

It was unlikely to end well for Newt. 

Jacob squared his shoulders and marched over to the two men. 

“Hey there, fellas” he greeted them, and then, without a moment’s hesitation, punched Mr. Graves in the face. “If you want to do anything to Newt here, you’ll have to go through me first.” He had never felt so brave. He had also never felt so unsure as Mr. Graves wiped the blood off of his split lip, and raised an eyebrow at him, looking decidedly unamused. 

“Mr. Kowalski, I do appreciate your concern for Newt, but he-“

“-can take care of himself” Newt interrupted, his gaze fixed on Jacob. “Thank you though, Jacob. I’m sure your intention was well-meaning. Now, I’m so sorry, but I’m just gonna – leave you two to it. Excuse me.” The magizoologist disapparated. Jacob would never get used to the wizards’ favourite method of transportation. 

“If you ever punch me again, I’ll make sure you’ll come to regret it” Mr. Graves informed him, giving him a tight-lipped smile. 

“I totally get that, Mr. Graves” Jacob assured the other man, returning the smile with one of his own. “And if I ever hear of you mistreating Newt, I’ll take the consequences for what I’m gonna do in that case.” Against all odds, they shook hands, and then Mr. Graves, too, disapparated. Jacob stayed behind, feeling a sudden rush of identification with Newt’s brother, and grinning to himself because of it. 

Later, Queenie would tell him that Newt had gone straight to the Goldstein's place and confessed his confusion about someone unrelated to him by blood rushing to his rescue, even if he had not in fact been in need of one. She would not tell him about Newt's still-lingering insecurities, but then, she wouldn't have to. Jacob knew. And, much like Mr. Graves had promised himself once, Jacob had also sworn to never cause Newt any new hurt. Not as long as he could help it.

Identification with Theseus, indeed.

 

**XVII. Newt**

 

Newt Scamander was on his way to Greece when he got the owl. The other passengers on the boat by now were used to the strange birds occasionally delivering strange letters to the strange man, so no one so much as batted an eyelid at the sight of their fellow traveller carefully freeing the owl from the envelope.

Newt himself found himself smiling in anticipation when he recognised the return address. A week had passed since he had started the holiday Percy had promised by entering the boat, and his boyfriend contacting him now was a welcome distraction from the monotony of the endless ocean.  

“Excuse me” he muttered in the general direction of the other travellers on the boat’s upper deck, and hastily made his way to his room for some privacy, the brown owl resting on his shoulder whilst occasionally nipping his ear. The British wizard petted her once, twice, three times before eagerly breaking the seal. 

“Dear Newt...miss you already...Theseus wants you to know that he’s still not speaking to you...invite from your parents...hope you are well...send Dougal my regards... look forward to your return...Queenie asked me about where our wedding will take place, who knows what she was thinking...perhaps one day?“ Newt broke off. Reread the line. Reread the beginning of the letter. Reread the line again. Shook his head. Finished the letter. Let out a surprised laugh. 

“That’s certainly never happened to me before” he said aloud, still smiling. The owl nipped his ear again.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all so much for reading! I would love to hear some feedback on this.


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